Ariana Grande
EDC 102H
Dr. Fogelman
Due: September 11, 2013
There is a picture of my dad and I that hangs up on a bulletin board in my dad’s office. It’s an old picture, taken when I was only two years old, and the edges are starting to lose their crisp look. The picture is of my dad playing the guitar, and of me sitting on his lap trying my very hardest to hold down guitar frets with my baby hands. That picture marks the start of when I first “played” the guitar. Growing up with a dad who is musically talented really changed the course of my childhood, and growing up around music is something that I am extremely thankful for. I was never good at sports, and I couldn’t draw, but since I could pick up an instrument, I was content.
It wasn’t until I was about six or seven when my family realized I could sing. My mom can still recall the memory perfectly. It was Christmas Eve, and silent night was playing on the radio. Sitting on the couch, I started to sing along with the radio. Vaguely, I remember my mom approaching me after the song ended, and praising me. I was confused as to why she was giving me attention for just singing along with a song. I was still too young to realize that I had found my niche. The only thing I knew was that while I was singing along with the radio, I was happy, and that was good enough for me.
Ever since that Christmas Eve night, I have been singing. At first, it started off as something I did to pass the time, to cheer me up, or to just have fun. I sang in my room, and I sang in the car. I sang to my dogs, and I played guitar for my little sister’s baby monitor. I picked up chords fast, and I had a good memory for lyrics. I would spend hours looking over an old Beatles picture chord book; only satisfied when I could get the gist of most songs. Everything was going great, but as I got older I ran into a large problem. Singing and playing the guitar was great for me, but only when no one was watching or listening. The older I became, the shyer I became, and my strive for greatness soon became halted by my stage-fright.
Soon enough, the singing and guitar playing faltered. My family and friends were tired of me wasting my talents by just singing in my room, or performing to myself in the mirror. I was tired of the relentless butterflies that came over me when I was asked to perform for a family member or for a friend. So, I thought the solution to my problem was to stop. I refused to attend voice lessons because I was too nervous to sing in front of a lady who was there to judge my singing. My guitar lessons stopped because I didn’t like to play aloud in front of my classmates. By the time I was entering middle school, I had forgotten about music altogether.
Things started to turn around by the end of my sixth grade year. My academic advisor, or guidance councilor at the time, had asked us to write a paragraph on something that we loved to do. I clearly remember sitting at my desk at North Cumberland Middle School racking my brain trying to think of something. Sure, I loved to do a lot of things. I liked to hang out with my friends, I liked to go to the movies, but to me, those answers didn’t seem sufficient. I peeked over to my friends paper and saw that she had wrote about soccer. It was her thing, and she was very good at the game. I remember feeling sad because I couldn’t name one thing that I was really good at, and that I really loved to do. And then, it dawned on me. I loved to make music. I loved it so much that I was afraid to accept negative comments. I loved music so much that I had no more room to be good at soccer, or to love any other activity. I realized that I couldn’t give up something so special to me just because I had a fear of holding back. So that afternoon, I went home and sat down with my guitar, my old Beatles picture chord book, my voice, and I set off to work.
A few years down the line, and a flyer was stapled to the eighth grade bulletin board at my middle school. It was a sign up sheet for auditions. Whoever was to win the audition, would win the chance to sing a solo commencement song at the eighth grade graduation. I signed my name on one of lines, and told myself that it was the right thing to do. I was done with giving up on something that I could do well. My audition came and went. I sang “The Climb” by Miley Cyrus. I don’t think I have ever been more nervous in my whole entire life. The relentless butterflies invaded my stomach once again. I was so lightheaded walking up to the microphone that I almost played dead just to get out of the audition. As soon as the background music came through the speakers though, I became a different girl. And when I started to sing and play the guitar, I was reminded of that Christmas Eve when my mom praised me for singing along with the radio.
When asked to describe something that I know how to do well, I always say “making music.” Playing guitar and singing is my niche. It’s the talent that I was blessed to be given. I wouldn’t know that I was blessed with that talent however if I didn’t have the support of my family and friends behind me. I also think that my guidance counselor’s paragraph assignment sparked the fire too. I hope to one day use my talents in the classroom. I want to become a teacher, and I strongly believe that music can be used as form of learning.
I wrote about playing guitar and singing in my sixth grade advisory session. I overcame my fears and learned to have confidence in what I loved to do. I now just wrote about it again in my first year of college, and I’m sure there will be many more things that I will be nervous about, but that I will be able to overcome. After years of being afraid to do what I loved, I won the graduation audition out of twenty eighth graders who tried out. When I finished performing at graduation, my eighth grade class gave me a standing ovation. It was the happiest moment of my life so far, and that’s how I know that singing and guitar is something that I can do well. I hope to use that feeling that was given to me, and be able to pass it along to my future students. Everyone deserves to be good at something, some just need a little push to get there.
EDC 102H
Dr. Fogelman
Due: September 11, 2013
There is a picture of my dad and I that hangs up on a bulletin board in my dad’s office. It’s an old picture, taken when I was only two years old, and the edges are starting to lose their crisp look. The picture is of my dad playing the guitar, and of me sitting on his lap trying my very hardest to hold down guitar frets with my baby hands. That picture marks the start of when I first “played” the guitar. Growing up with a dad who is musically talented really changed the course of my childhood, and growing up around music is something that I am extremely thankful for. I was never good at sports, and I couldn’t draw, but since I could pick up an instrument, I was content.
It wasn’t until I was about six or seven when my family realized I could sing. My mom can still recall the memory perfectly. It was Christmas Eve, and silent night was playing on the radio. Sitting on the couch, I started to sing along with the radio. Vaguely, I remember my mom approaching me after the song ended, and praising me. I was confused as to why she was giving me attention for just singing along with a song. I was still too young to realize that I had found my niche. The only thing I knew was that while I was singing along with the radio, I was happy, and that was good enough for me.
Ever since that Christmas Eve night, I have been singing. At first, it started off as something I did to pass the time, to cheer me up, or to just have fun. I sang in my room, and I sang in the car. I sang to my dogs, and I played guitar for my little sister’s baby monitor. I picked up chords fast, and I had a good memory for lyrics. I would spend hours looking over an old Beatles picture chord book; only satisfied when I could get the gist of most songs. Everything was going great, but as I got older I ran into a large problem. Singing and playing the guitar was great for me, but only when no one was watching or listening. The older I became, the shyer I became, and my strive for greatness soon became halted by my stage-fright.
Soon enough, the singing and guitar playing faltered. My family and friends were tired of me wasting my talents by just singing in my room, or performing to myself in the mirror. I was tired of the relentless butterflies that came over me when I was asked to perform for a family member or for a friend. So, I thought the solution to my problem was to stop. I refused to attend voice lessons because I was too nervous to sing in front of a lady who was there to judge my singing. My guitar lessons stopped because I didn’t like to play aloud in front of my classmates. By the time I was entering middle school, I had forgotten about music altogether.
Things started to turn around by the end of my sixth grade year. My academic advisor, or guidance councilor at the time, had asked us to write a paragraph on something that we loved to do. I clearly remember sitting at my desk at North Cumberland Middle School racking my brain trying to think of something. Sure, I loved to do a lot of things. I liked to hang out with my friends, I liked to go to the movies, but to me, those answers didn’t seem sufficient. I peeked over to my friends paper and saw that she had wrote about soccer. It was her thing, and she was very good at the game. I remember feeling sad because I couldn’t name one thing that I was really good at, and that I really loved to do. And then, it dawned on me. I loved to make music. I loved it so much that I was afraid to accept negative comments. I loved music so much that I had no more room to be good at soccer, or to love any other activity. I realized that I couldn’t give up something so special to me just because I had a fear of holding back. So that afternoon, I went home and sat down with my guitar, my old Beatles picture chord book, my voice, and I set off to work.
A few years down the line, and a flyer was stapled to the eighth grade bulletin board at my middle school. It was a sign up sheet for auditions. Whoever was to win the audition, would win the chance to sing a solo commencement song at the eighth grade graduation. I signed my name on one of lines, and told myself that it was the right thing to do. I was done with giving up on something that I could do well. My audition came and went. I sang “The Climb” by Miley Cyrus. I don’t think I have ever been more nervous in my whole entire life. The relentless butterflies invaded my stomach once again. I was so lightheaded walking up to the microphone that I almost played dead just to get out of the audition. As soon as the background music came through the speakers though, I became a different girl. And when I started to sing and play the guitar, I was reminded of that Christmas Eve when my mom praised me for singing along with the radio.
When asked to describe something that I know how to do well, I always say “making music.” Playing guitar and singing is my niche. It’s the talent that I was blessed to be given. I wouldn’t know that I was blessed with that talent however if I didn’t have the support of my family and friends behind me. I also think that my guidance counselor’s paragraph assignment sparked the fire too. I hope to one day use my talents in the classroom. I want to become a teacher, and I strongly believe that music can be used as form of learning.
I wrote about playing guitar and singing in my sixth grade advisory session. I overcame my fears and learned to have confidence in what I loved to do. I now just wrote about it again in my first year of college, and I’m sure there will be many more things that I will be nervous about, but that I will be able to overcome. After years of being afraid to do what I loved, I won the graduation audition out of twenty eighth graders who tried out. When I finished performing at graduation, my eighth grade class gave me a standing ovation. It was the happiest moment of my life so far, and that’s how I know that singing and guitar is something that I can do well. I hope to use that feeling that was given to me, and be able to pass it along to my future students. Everyone deserves to be good at something, some just need a little push to get there.